“You’re a tyrant!” She trailed the Prophet so closely, she clipped his heels with her slippers. “You’re a liar! You’re a madman! You promised me he’d be safe.” She caught his sleeve and yanked it so hard she ripped the velvet. “You promised!” The Prophet turned on her then, drew back his hand, and slapped her. Immanuelle fell back, her head spinning, and crashed into a nearby bench. She heard Ezra cry her name again, his voice ringing in her ears.
